


Control

by handwrittenjas



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff, Haunting, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, No Smut, Paranormal, ghost!luke, human!michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-23 12:33:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6116584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handwrittenjas/pseuds/handwrittenjas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael is terrified of ghosts. Always has been, always will be. Of course, this means that when his parents leave him alone for nights on end to fend for himself against the demons that he claims to be living in the Clifford house, this causes a lot of problems. Glasses are shattered, doors are slammed and many tears are shed - but after coming face-to-face with the boy who has been scaring him for months, Michael realises that being haunted isn't so bad after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The House Was Awake

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first boyxboy fic and I'm not the best writer, so feedback would be much appreciated! I'm obsessed with ghost fics and I love this plot so hopefully you enjoy reading it :)

"Michael, we can't stay with you forever!" Karen exclaimed for the tenth time that day. She had become tired of repeating the same conversation and stood by the door, hands clutching her favourite black bag which matched her cocktail dress. Her husband was in the car waiting and at this rate, they'd both be late.

"I'm not safe here! Anyone could break in and rob us, or rape me... i could get murdered!" Michael cried in response. His blue hair lay flat against his forehead as he listed all of the reasons why he shouldn't be left alone. "I highly doubt the demon is gonna help me get away from a serial killer."

"Oh stop it, now you're just being silly." The older woman said, turning to face the mirror so she could double check her lipstick before she left.

"But mum-" Michael called out, desperate to stop her from leaving him.

"No! You need to stop with all of this 'demon' nonsense. You're sixteen now, it's getting old." Karen stated. For the past few months Michael had been complaining about some sort of 'mysterious entity' that he believed was stalking him and quite frankly, she was fed up. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the house they lived in, and there most definitely wasn't anything supernatural haunting it. "It's all in your head, Mikey."

Michael only sighed in reply, beginning to work his fingers through his fringe as part of his many nervous habits. The ring that clutched to his pinky finger was tangling in the hair but he barely winced at the pain, too distracted by the fact that his parents were leaving him alone all night. He knew something was wrong about the house he was standing in, so being left home alone for the first time since he began having the weird experiences was frightening to say the least, even at his age.

"What time will you be back?" Michael pondered. He prayed it wouldn't be too late as he watched his mother slip on the expensive-looking heels which lay next to the door, fears already growing in his mind about everything that could go wrong while he was alone. He didn't understand why his parents were going to the stupid event anyway - his father always complained about work, so why did he need to go to every party they held?

"Me and your father have a room booked at the same hotel that the reception is in," Karen sighed and pursed her lips, trying to figure out an estimate. After all, she would be leaving her son alone for the night and everyone knew how terrified he was, so giving him some peace of mind was the least she could do. "We both have work tomorrow so we need to be back early to get ready. 8am at the latest."

He nodded and pulled the sleeves of his sweater over his hands so only the tips of his fingers were showing. The cotton was soft against his skin in contrast to the tight jeans which clutched to his hips. Michael fiddled with his fringe again, ruffling it some more, trying to find something to do with his fingers as he grew more anxious.

"You'll be fine, sweetheart." The woman gave him a sweet smile and ran her fingers over his sleeves, admiring her son. She never understood why he didn't have more friends. MAny people shrugged him off and labelled him as weird, a punk or an abomination but despite what many other parents said, Karen was proud to have raised Michael the way she did. In her opinion, a few boxes of hair dye weren't enough to make her son a bad person and Michael was one of the sweetest boys in the world.

Michael stayed silent, knowing that if he tried to form words he would end up crying. In all honesty, the demon that he was scared of wasn't the only thing that made him hesitant to spend the night alone. He never grew up with friends and most people judged his looks, calling him an emo or treating him like an outcast, but the only person who never saw him as different was his mum. Michael's dad accepted it but never fully understood, probably due to the fact that they lived in a rich neighbourhood where people were shunned for being different. However from the first time Michael asked his mum if he could dye his hair black, Karen never thought of Michael as different to other teenagers.

"You said you wanted to learn how to play one of those new songs on guitar, right?" Karen changed the subject as a minor distraction. Michael nodded his head. He had mentioned that his favourite band, All Time Low, had released a new album and he wanted to learn a few of the songs to keep himself occupied. "Maybe you can practice while I'm gone and show me tomorrow?"

Appreciative of her effort to make him feel better, Michael grinned at her and tried to act like he was less bothered by the thought of being alone. "Yeah, maybe I'll do that." He spoke calmly and gave his mum a quick hug, muttering a small "I love you," into her shoulder as he gripped her waist. Karen pulled away and planted a gentle kiss on his head.

Whilst the scene was unfolding, the kitchen was occupied by a blonde boy who sat on the countertop with a grin across his face. He's never looked his scared before, Luke thought to himself. It's perfect. Although he was well aware it would be easy to freak out anyone, Luke always found it better when the victim had an initial fear of ghosts. He didn't have the patience to wait for someone to try and figure out what was going on; life was so much easier when he could just throw a glass across the room and immediately see people crying over whatever 'demon' they suspected him to be.

Of course, Luke wasn't a demon. It was actually a huge source of irritation when people said he was, because in the supernatural world there is a huge difference between spirits, ghosts, poltergeists and demons yet humans can never seem to grasp the concept that not everything that haunts you is the same.

It was like saying there's no difference between a Labrador and a Yorkshire Terrier, simply because they're both dogs; demons were literally designed to be evil and terrify the human race, whereas spirits can't even form a human body and ghosts had no obligation to interact with humans at all. Luke choosing to scare people once in a while was just a hobby, he didn't see why that should make him a bad person.

After watching the mother and son argue for a few minutes, Luke quickly became bored with their back-and-forth repetition. He ended up focusing entirely on the son, staring at his appearance and taking in everything about the boy. This was something he did a lot, as creepy as it may sound, over the few months that he had been living in the Clifford residence. Luke had grown attached to the teenage boy and wanted to memorise everything he possibly could about his face.

Michael's hair was freshly dyed and Luke could smell the product from where he sat - although his heightened senses meant he was probably the only person bothered by the odour. The blue was a pretty contrast to the deep red colour it had been before and it perfectly matched the sweater that hung loosely from Michael's shoulders. Luke was never a fan of bright hair, but something about Michael meant that he pulled off the look beautifully.

It was only the sound of the door slamming shut and the familiar sound of a lock clicking that pulled Luke from his thoughts. His eyes immediately went to Michael who stood in the hallway, not making any effort to move or do anything, for that matter. It seemed normal at first, but soon enough Luke became bored of waiting and decided to take matters into his own hands.

It wasn't usual for a ghost to choose to haunt people, though most of the time they would only stick to one house for a few days. Haunting always meant there was a possibility of being caught or even erased from the human world, so it probably wasn't the best idea to stalk one person for so long. However, Luke knew that Michael's parents would never believe that their son was encountering a real ghost and the teenage boy couldn't afford to have the house checked out without money from his parents. This made life a lot easier for Luke; although he didn't need food to stay alive, Luke became stronger with every scream and cry that he caused, so finding a young boy who was terrified of the lights simply turning off was enough to make Luke risk his life to stay in the house.

He started off simple, doing little things to freak Michael out so he could eventually give him a real scare. Despite not being a demon and not being interested in training to scare humans, Luke found pleasure in causing Michael harm. He wasn't sure what it was about the blue haired boy - perhaps it was his unique qualities or hilarious reactions to everything - but Luke enjoyed haunting him and he didn't want to stop any time soon.

Michael had remained standing in the hallway and only moved when he heard the creak of his back door opening and coming to a slow close, the latch clicking shut as it did so. Is was how Luke always began his... performance. The door would open and close, showing off his entrance into the house and then the real fun would begin.

The whole thing started off with some cupboards opening and slamming shut in the kitchen, the sound of glasses being moved and smashed echoing around the house. Luke marched around the kitchen with his head held high, throwing whatever cheap-looking objects he could find at the nearest wall and laughing every time he heard a frightened squeal coming from Michael's throat. Fortunately Luke didn't break anything expensive - he knew the Cliffords didn't have the most money in the world and it would be unfair to break their valuables just for his enjoyment. If Michael told his parents a ghost broke their expensive plates they wouldn't believe him and he'd probably have to pay for new ones, which Michael didn't deserve.

Even if Luke wasn't the friendliest ghost, he wasn't completely horrible.

As soon as the noises started, Michael ran up the stairs and into his bedroom, locking the door behind him. His bed was the one place that made him feel really safe, so he wrapped himself up in a blanket and threw the covers over his body, leaving a small gap for him to watch the door. The familiar sound of footsteps on the stairs and creaking of floorboards caused Michael to shake violently, and he felt as if he was going to throw up. Since the first time he experienced the paranormal activities months ago, Michael has never been approached by the demon, ghost, spirit, or whatever it was. He had witnessed furniture moving and felt cold hands brush past his body, but nothing ever showed itself.

The footsteps finally stopped, and from the other side of the door Luke could almost hear the terror in Michael's heavy breathing. You have no idea what's coming for you, kid. Luke chuckled and set his hand on the doorknob, turning it as slowly as possible. He scratched and banged on the door to add some more tension. After months of waiting, Luke finally planned on revealing himself and performing the real scare show he had planned.

The door edged open and Michael gave up on trying to watch what was going on. He dropped his grip on the covers and instead chose to hold onto his legs and push his face as far into the mattress as possible, almost as if he could let in the darkness and fall asleep, ignoring the horrors going on around him. Michael's bedside lamp, the only remaining source of light in the house, flickered for a few seconds and eventually blew out, leaving the room in total darkness. There was an eerie silence in the house and the temperature seemed to get lower and lower until Michael was shaking in his clothes.

That was, until he felt a warm breath on his neck.

It had only been ten minutes since his parents pulled out of the driveway and left for their party, but as Michael clutched his eyes shut and pulled his knees into his chest as tight as possible, screaming into the pillow in pure fear, he could tell there was going to be a long night ahead of him.


	2. They're Coming For Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all the hits and kudos on Chapter One! I didnt expect to get any reads at all, I'm gonna do daily updates if you keep enjoying it :)

There were always downsides to being dead.

First of all, to become a ghost you had to die in some sort of sudden or violent way so most ghosts were assholes who only cared about getting revenge and taking their frustration out on other people. This made it difficult for Luke to make friends, especially since most ghosts ditched the people they knew once they found somewhere good to haunt. There were no schools, social clubs or gathering for ghosts, they just saw each other around every once in a while so there wasn't anywhere that Luke could go to meet other people his age.

As a 'people person', this bothered Luke a lot. He grew up wanting a large group of friends to call his own, who he could spend all of his free time with and be as close to them as he was with his brothers when he was alive. Even before he died, Luke wasn't particularly popular. He wasn't completely alone in the world, but there was never a huge second family that he always wished for.

However, there were a lot of upsides to being a ghost. Not having to eat or sleep was always helpful, especially since this freed up a lot of time that he could have been wasting. He didn't have energy the same was as living creatures did, so if he wanted an adrenaline rush it only took a few screams to refresh him. It always made Luke laugh, actually, the way screams could give him more power. It reminded him of an old movie he liked as a child where monsters had to scare children in order to power their secret monster universe - very strange, but entertaining.

The sheer freedom that came with being dead, such as being able to teleport and not having to work or learn, was exhilarating too. There was an enormous feeling of amazement that rushed through Luke's body every time his feet left the ground and allowed him to fly, and the fact that he could literally travel anywhere in the world with no boundaries or fears of getting hurt or caught never ceased to make his brain do backflips. Every impossible dream that he had as a child suddenly became real after his death.

Other than that, one of Luke's favourite perks of being a ghost was most definitely possession. He had only done it once before, but the feeling was better than anything he could imagine. The way he could muster up all of his strength and channel it onto another person - someone that he could actually control and manipulate in any way he wanted - was truly astounding to Luke. It was one of the most satisfying things a ghost could do and was a real sign of power.

When he allowed himself to slip into the body of the frail, blue haired boy, Luke wasn't sure why he never did it sooner.

After months of not being able to feel his own body, he managed to relive the feeling of having a real, breathing, physical form and he had never felt so much power. It was still difficult to move and force the body to do what he wanted, but Michael had very little free will so Luke spent almost an hour in his body. At first, Luke wanted to get the hang of things. Michael knew something was wrong straight away; he suddenly felt lost, trapped inside his own body without knowing what exactly was different. He felt hands everywhere, feeling, touching, groping; every nerve on his body was screaming for it to stop but Michael was nothing but a prisoner begging for mercy in a jail cell that he threw himself into.

Since their brains were in the same body, Luke could easily control everything that Michael thought about. He flooded the boy's head with images or torture, pain, relentless murder; anything that would get the most extreme reaction. Michael struggled inside his own head to stop the thoughts and take control back, but Luke was screaming and yelling inside their joint skull and doing everything physically possible to upset Michael. Luke was manic as he quickly learned how to control the body, driving the innocent boy wild as Luke threw himself into every possible surface that may hurt just so he could remember what pain was like. Luke hadn't felt a real emotion in years and despite his excitement being dangerous for both boys, it was enthralling and exhilarating at the same time and Luke never wanted it to stop.

Unfortunately, Michael was much less excited. He felt his brain thumping against his head, too many thoughts swirling around for him to properly function. There was a hurricane of whispers and secrets thundering around his brain, drowning out every sane thought and replacing his tears with tsunamis of pain and fear and _please make it stop make it stop make it stop stop stop stop_ ; the voices were slowly taking over and gave him an overwhelming urge to scream, simply to drown it all out.

As he pressed his back to the wall and slid onto the ground, head tucked between his knees, Michael didn't understand why any of this was happening. His attempts to shut everything out weren't working and knowing the was nothing he could do to save himself almost drove him to a point of insanity. "You promised!" He screamed, sobs echoing throughout the empty house. "You said it was safe, nothing can hurt me." His throat was dry and loud hiccups continued to escape from his body, the sound mixing with the desperate cries that could probably be heart from miles away.

Michael knew he was being unreasonable but in that moment, he couldn't help but despise his mother for lying to him. She left him in the house, all by himself, knowing of his fears. She had swore to him that there was nothing wrong with the house and led him to believe that he would be able to stay there in piece, yet now it felt as if his life was being slowly drained from his body.

Eventually, he lost the ability to cry anymore.

Michael could hear glass smashing downstairs. Some sort of demonic, inhumane laughter was bouncing off every wall of the house, but he could even bring himself to care. With the anxiety that had constantly flowed through his body since he started high school, it was already hard for Michael to get on with his regular life, but the levels of pure terror that overtook his body made him completely shut down. The whole situation ended up being too much, and the last thing Michael saw before he let out his final shriek of horror was a pair of piercing blue eyes staring right back at him from across the room.


	3. My Mind's Like A Deadly Disease

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter seems super cliche and the ending is really overused but this story will be getting better and I like where it's going. Please comment and give feedback!

Michael felt as if his body was in flames; his throat burned with every word he spoke, limbs aching with tongues of fire swallowing him whole. His body twisted and stretched on the floor and he clawed at his face, gasping for breath as if he was underwater, drowning.

In that moment, Michael really wished he could just slip into the water and let himself go.

"No! Just make it stop, make it stop," He was muttering under his breath, head clutched tightly between his hands, body rocking back and forth. Luke watched from the other side of the hallway, partly with fear but also with curiosity.

Luke wasn't scared of Michael - the blue haired boy was as timid as a kitten and he was just as frightening as one too. Of course, the screaming and crying made him seem pretty crazy and Luke had never seen a human act so terrified. Heck, Michael's fear literally _pushed_ Luke out of his body. That was a pretty big deal.

"It hurts," Luke noticed how Michael's voice wavered and cracked as he spoke, every word digging deeper into his chest as if someone was beating him black and blue. "I can't take it anymore, please just end it. Make it stop."

Admittedly, Luke was shocked by the outburst. He had seen grown men cry, women plead for their life and children lock themselves in all sorts of strange rooms and places, but never had a human openly asked Luke to kill them. The event would be a miracle to most people on the other side and any demon would jump at the chance to ravish a human boy to death, but Luke wasn't a demon. No - he didn't want to be and he never would be, because demons are cruel and unforgiving and Luke felt the strings on his non-existent heart being tugged by the sight of the small boy in front of him.

"Kill me!" His screams were loud. Michael's body was shaking. His fingers could barely clutch onto his thin legs but it didn't seem as if he would be calming down any time soon. "That's what everyone wants, right?" The air was filled with cries and whimpers but the atmosphere was much darker: was Michael serious about wanting to die? Had Luke's silly jokes finally gone too far?

It wasn't only Luke who was surprised by the words, however. Michael himself didn't think he would ever say them. At school, things weren't always perfect and it was frustrating when his parents didn't understand what he was going through, but that had never been enough for Michael to seriously try and kill himself. He had thought about it before, that was true, but it seemed like he finally reached his breaking point.

"My classmates, my family, you... everyone wants me gone so just do it already!" Michael cried out. He was sick of waiting, ready for it all to be over. It was already hard to get through each day and he didn't need more pain to make things worse. "Stop waiting around!"

It was strange seeing a human look so fragile, so broken, so vulnerable - Yes, that was the perfect word to describe Michael. Vunerable. From what Luke had seen, Michael always tried to come off as independent and sassy when he could, but behind closed doors lay a lifetime of fake smiles and hollowed out eyes. Despite seeming completely normal and out together on the outside, there were a whole number of layers to Michael and it seemed as if his tough exterior was breaking down quickly.

Luke never paid much attention to his victims. He didn't even like the call them that; Luke didn't kill anyone, eat them or sacrifice their souls, they were merely experiments and practical jokes. They were test subjects and lab rats for when Luke got bored. Something was different with Michael. The idea that his pranks could drive someone to such a bad state was making Luke go crazy and he felt almost guilty about hurting the smaller boy.

If he could still feel emotional pain, Luke would guess this is what it felt like.

Luke knew he needed to do something to help, and despite the possibility of him breaking a rule or being erased, he channelled as much of his energy and possible and soon enough, he was stood in front of Michael, ready to be seen. It was a risky move and the majority of ghosts would call him an idiot for caring about a human enough to let them see his real form, but Luke couldn't leave the boy in the state he was in.

It had been so long since he had entered the living realm and everything felt new and extreme. Immediately the temperature in the room dropped, a light chill in the air as it reached a low 5°C. All around the hallways and in every room, lights began to flicker on and off, their intensity changing as they struggled to get used to the extra energy taking over the house. Luke could feel the floorboards creak underneath his feet due to the new weight on them and it felt strange to be real again. This was different to possession; he wasn't in someone else's body, it was just _Luke_.

Despite being visible at the time, Luke was well aware that his body still wasn't real as he stood around, waiting to be seen. There was a slight tingling in his limbs as they struggled to get used to the human atmosphere and it was strange to have actual senses again, but Luke ignored all of that, focused on the cowering boy in front of him. Besides, what use was stressing over being dead? There was no blood in his veins, no warm breath, no beating heart to keep his body going - Luke was simply a bundle of energy, occasionally seen by humans as a person. In every single way, Luke was nothing.

Michael heard the creaking floorboards and a chill ran down his spine. There were goosebumps on his arms and immediately he could tell that he was no longer alone. The air was cold. He could feel himself being watched, eyes burning into the back of his body but Michael remained still, terrified of what could be in front of him until he finally gave in and lifted his head, peering up at the creature which had caused him so much trauma for months.

The smaller of the two boys struggled to pull himself into a sitting position. Admittedly, he knew his freak out was a bit too extreme but the terror coursing through his veins and filling his bloodstream didn't help the situation.

He stared straight at his hunter, the light blue and gold colours in his eyes completely different to the red and black Michael had been imagining. The blonde's hair was neat rather than looking crazed or dishevelled. The stranger actually looked kind of... nice. In all honestly, Michael had spent hours considering what kind of monster had been trying to hurt him but in all of the violent, cruel, evil looking creatures his mind had conjured up, there wasn't a single similarity.

Luke observed the boy from afar. His bright hair lay flat against his head unlike Luke's tall quiff and despite Michael being alive, his skin was still a few shades lighter than any ghost imaginable. If Luke took a human form and the pair walked into public together, most people would probably think it was Luke who was more alive and healthy.

He wasn't sure if this should make him laugh or worried.

Michael said nothing as he stood up, legs shaking underneath him. He pursed his lips, taking one step closer to the blonde boy stood a few feet away. Michael's breathing was fast and shallow and an array of questions were filling his head, but he ignored it all and focused his mind on Luke. He knew it was probably a stupid mistake; I mean, if somebody breaks into your house and is possibly trying to murder you, surely you're supposed to run away screaming rather than choosing to be near them? Michael wasn't sure what he was doing, but something about the mysterious boy drew him in. He reached out his fingers and lightly touched the figure in front of him. Cold.

Luke shuddered as he felt light fingertips roaming his skin, tracing his collarbone and jawline. He said nothing, breath hitched in his throat, too speechless and anxious to make a sound. It wasn't right to show himself to a human - especially someone who he taunted for so long - but even covered in blood, dirt and tear stains, Michael looked beautiful and that wasn't something Luke had thought about _anyone_ in a very long time.

"I like your bracelet." Luke whispered, his face only inches away from Michael's. He had noticed the thin, beaded bracelet when Michael had lifted his arm and Luke saw that the beads spelled out the name of one of his favourite bands: The 1975. "What's your favourite song by them?" Michael seemed to be startled and confused by the words, but Luke didn't mind.

Michael's eyes bugged out, not expecting the boy to talk so casually, if at all. "R-robbers," he stuttered out, not understanding what was going on.

Luke's face lit up. "Mine too!" He laughed slightly and shook his head at the thought of them having the same favourite. He expected things to be awkward, for Michael to chicken out and run away or for Luke turn invisible again, but as soon as he saw that Michael liked the same band as he did, Luke felt as if he was just talking to an old best friend.

Michael said nothing, only watching with wide eyes as Luke began to sing along to the tune of Robbers and look at the pictures hanging on the walls. _This can't be happening_ , Michael thought to himself. Was he finally going crazy? There was a random boy stood in his hallway who literally appeared from thin air, singing and laughing as if this was normal.

"She had a face straight outta magazine," Luke sang, a smile plastered across his face as he stared at Michael. "God only knows but you'll never leave her." His voice wasn't as strong as it used to be and he probably wasn't using the right pitch, but it had been years since Luke last sang.

Suddenly, things were becoming too much and Michael's head began to spin. He only heard the faint shouts coming from Luke before his eyes closed and the last thing he felt was his body hitting the floor as everything went dark. 


	4. Hours On Empty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like writing this (im lowkey in love with this chapter rip) so there will probably be two updates a day until this is over :)

Despite having haunted Michael for months, Luke had never bothered looking around his room and actually paying attention to what happened in there. It was quite an average room for a teenager; a double bed stood in the corner covered in crumpled sheets, posters hung from the walls with ripped corners and there were countless books and worksheets laid out across the desk. Luke was glad that he didn't have to go to school any more because the around of work that people were forced to do was ridiculous, in his opinion.

The only wall that wasn't plastered with pictures of Twenty One Pilots and All Time Low was taken up by a giant bookshelf, filled to the brim with stacks of books. They varied with genre, length and age but Michael still had them organised perfectly, from his least favourites left on the bottom shelf to his favourites, perfectly stacked in the middle so he could grab them whenever he wanted to. Of course, Michael didn't dislike any of the books that he owned (he even enjoyed the classics that he was forced to read for English class) but if you told him that Jane Eyre or Great Expectations were better than The Perks of Being a Wallflower or Lord of The Flies - the two books that he could read over and over until his eyes fell out of their sockets - he would probably spend hours explaining to you why his book collection was so much better than yours.

Michael always loved to read. Although most people his age thought it was boring or strange, he loved the fact that some authors were so talented that that could string words together in a way that literally made him feel as if he was inside another world. That's all books were, really; the same set of words put together in countless different ways, telling a new story with new characters and struggles every time. Even as a child Michael preferred to sit in his room and read Hardy Potter rather than going to play with the other kids, but he found new friends and ways to comfort himself with every turn of the pages.

It wasn't often that Michael left his room, but at this point he was hiding in the en suite only a few feet away from his bed. The bright lights in the bathroom reflected off every tile and gave the whole room an opaque white glow. The brightness easily burned Michael eyes and it hurt to look around, but that was his price to pay for spending most of his life in the dark, the only light coming from his phone or laptop screen when he was reading fan fictions or stalking his favourite tumblr blogs.

Michael wasn't sure how he ended up sat alone in the bathroom, body curled in a ball, back pressed against the locked door. When he woke up to the blue eyes staring down at him, he couldn't help but feel suddenly upset, scared and nervous all at once. Now here he was, twenty minutes later, hiding from his problems and forcing himself away from other people as always.

Seeing the boy struck some sort of soft spot in Michael. He couldn't get the blue eyes and blonde hair out of his mind, yet he longed for some sort of distraction. It had been years since he saw someone that perfect, and Michael knew it was safe to become attached or develop a crush - heck, he didn't even know who or what the boy was. Nobody ever stays friends with him or returns the feelings, so after years of being back stabbed and broken, Michael gave up on his feelings altogether.

He became distracted from his thoughts when there was a light tap on the door, and Michael wasn't sure if he should have been afraid or curious about the stranger on the other side. He had never met the personal before and he didn't know how he even managed to get into his house, so why did Michael put so much trust in him already?

"Stay away from me." Luke heard Michael's voice crack as he spoke. He could hear the pain and terror as the words slipped under the cracks in the door and it was honestly hurtful for Luke to know that he may have caused that.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" There was a break in Luke's voice as he tried to plead, one hand resting gently on the door. He wasn't sure why how how he had become so desperate to help, but he wanted nothing more than to have no barrier between him and the more fragile boy. "I'm sorry, Michael."

"How do you know my name?" Michael questioned. Luke noticed that he ignored the matter at hand and Luke felt himself getting more frustrated as he begged for answers.

"Damn it just open the door!" Luke pounded his fists on the wood and the noise echoed throughout the room. Michael whimpered and buried his face into his knees when he felt the bangs. Fear rattled through his body and he couldn't be sure that he was entirely safe, despite how nice Luke was acting earlier on.

"Who are you?" Michael said with a shaken voice, not taking the orders to open the door and let him in.

Luke sighed, running his hands through his hair. "I'm Luke."

Neither of them tried to carry on the conversation, and the emptiness in the air wasn't awkward - rather, the silence was comfortable but still begging to be broken. Luke knew that he should say something but his words would fail him as always, so he opted to do something that he hadn't tried since the day he lost his life.

He began to sing.

It was strange to be singing again after so long, Luke wasn't actually sure if the lyrics were right, but it felt good to be doing what he loved. "I'll be here by the ocean, just waiting for proof that there's sunsets and silhouette dreams,"

"All my sand castles fall like the ashes of cigarettes." Luke sang the lyrics quietly, the back of his head still pressed against the wooden door between himself and the smaller boy. "And every wave drags me to sea."

Luke wasn't really sure why his brain told him to sing that song sin particular. It had meant a lot to him while he was alive, he listened to it literally every day, but never had he gotten his friends or family to listen to it. Mayday Parade were his favourite band that nobody else knew about (at least, nobody who Luke was friends with) and sharing his favourite song by them felt far too personal. The lyrics were incredible but underrated, and although it upset him that the band never got the recognition that they deserved, he didn't want to share them with anyone else.

Well, anyone but Michael.

"I could stand here for hours just to ask God the question, 'Is everyone here make-believe?'" Michael listened intently, not wanting to disrupt the quiet voice coming from the other side. He knew the lyrics off by heart and it surprised him to hear someone else singing them - Michael always felt like he was the only person who really appreciated the song.

"With a tear in his voice, he says, 'Son, that's the question.'" Luke closed his eyes as he sang, straining his voice to try and hit the right notes. He could hear faint breathing on the other side and it was nice to know that Michael had managed to calm down, if only a little bit.

The rest of the house was quiet and so were the two boys as Luke continued to sing the lyrics with a soft tone, only stopping when he reached the end of the chorus. His eyes had fluttered shut and for the first time in months, he actually felt at peace.

"Does this deafening silence mean nothing to no one but me?"


	5. Slightest of Sounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story has been sad as heck so I figured I'd throw in some fluff :)

 When the lock on the door opened with a 'click!' and Michael finally left the bathroom, Luke wasn't sure what to expect.

Of course, none of these situations involved what he really saw: Michael's face pale and worn out, his body shaking slightly, patches of red seeping through the sleeves of his thin sweater.

"L-Luke," Michael coughed and collapsed down onto the floor, lending onto Luke's shoulder for support. It was obvious that the boy was traumatised and Luke wasn't sure how to help.

"Oh god." Luke whispered, having no idea of how anyone could react to this situation calmly. He simply chose to wrap his arms around the smaller boy in an attempt to make him feel safe. "Why would you do this to yourself?"

"I just w-wanted them to like m-me." Michael sobbed.

"Who?" Luke rested a hand on the boy's back, trying to calm him down. "Michael, who made you do this to yourself?"

"Everyone! I go to school everyday and they laugh at me, call me a fag, tell me I should die." It took everything in Michael not to cry through the whole sentence.

"I thought that if I gave myself the pain they said I deserved they would stop hurting me." Michael's voice broke as he tried to calm himself down. "Maybe they'd let me in."

"Michael..." Luke wasn't sure what to say but from the way his voice shook with each word, he knew he was also close to crying.

"You don't need to change yourself for other people, especially not if it hurts you like this."

"But they told m-"

"That's doesn't matter!" Luke spoke up" Anyone who doesn't accept you as you are isn't worth your time, I know it might be hard to understand and we don't know each other so i have no idea what life is like for you at school, but just stick with the friends you have instead of trying to suck up to kid who won't like you either way."

"What if I don't have friends already?" Michael replied with a low voice.

Luke felt his heart break when he heard that. How on Earth could someone as pure and adorable like Michael not have any friends? He was by far the sweetest person that Luke had met, even if they had never spoken before today.

"Then you walk into that school with your head held high," Luke smiled and ruffled the soft, blue hair on Michael's head. "And show them exactly what they're missing out on."

Michael stayed silent after that and focused on his breathing, trying his best to keep calm. Luke was supportive, tightening his grip on Michael's shoulders and breathing with him.

"Let's go get you cleaned up."

Michael nodded, for some reason not caring that Luke would get to see his scars and cuts if he agreed to go and get cleaned up. Luke was probably just part of some crazy dream anyone, what would be the problem?

They remained in a comfortable silence after Luke closed the bathroom door behind them. Michael took a seat on top of the sink and Like rooted through drawers and shelves until he found a first aid kit, beginning to apply disinfectant and cotton swabs to Michael's wounds, both the healing ones and the fresher cuts.

"It didn't happen when I was a kid." Michael broke the silence, closing his eyes. "Only when I started high school."

"My dad used to play me rock music and stuff when I was little, he always took me to concerts with him so that's what I was into when I was little." He wasn't sure why he felt so comfortable telling Luke the story. "People didn't care when I was like, 8, because they thought it was cool that I got to see all these famous people, but I guess when high school started everyone thought it was weird."

"You don't have to tell m-" Luke tried to cut him off.

"I want to."

"I would always sit on the bus with my headphones in and listen to Green Day, Nirvana, that kind of stuff. The girls all listened to shitty chart songs and the boys thought I was too freaky to be cool so I just kept to myself and listened to my music like, all the time."

In a lot of ways, Luke could relate to Michael. He grew up feeling like an outcast because he was also into a lot of that music, but after a while he found a group of friends who actually made him feel welcome.

Of course, most of all his brother helped him get through any struggle that Luke faced. When he was little, Luke would tell all of his friends about how amazing his big brother Jack was for being the best person in the world, and his Mum would tease him and Ben would pout and his father Andrew would watch them from the kitchen doorway with a find smile. Even as a young boy, Luke always tried to stay positive and he told Jack that he loved him every single day.

After the incident, Luke didn't talk about Jack to anyone.

"I didn't really mind but then guys in my school were getting beat up for being gay and it terrified me," Luke watched as Michael visibly shuddered at the memory. "I never really doubted my sexuality, I always knew I liked boys but they scared me into staying in the closet. The few people who found out just beat me up as if it would 'fix me' or something."

"I don't get it," Michael whimpered, covering his face with his sweater-clad hands. The sleeves were almost long enough to cover his fingers fully and Luke had to stop himself from cooing at the sight.

"What don't you get?" Luke replied with a soft, encouraging tone.

"I know I'm a b-boy," Michael stuttered back, face still buried in his palms. "But I want to be able to love other guys. Girls can love who they want to, why c-can't I be like them?"

Luke wasn't sure how to reply to that. He may have been dead for a long time - a few years, actually - but he didn't feel surprised that society made boys feel like they can't be gay. Being attractive isn't gendered, neither were clothes or names or literally any material item, why couldn't people understand this? Luke was upset that so many people were made to feel bad about themselves, but he felt even worse knowing that Michael was so self-conscious.

He thought it over for a second then replied with a smile, "You can."

"What?"

"I mean, I know my opinion doesn't mean much to you," Luke turned to face the smaller boy, a smile creeping into his face. "But I think you're beautiful and you can date anyone you want to."

Michael was surprised by his answer. The pair didn't even know each other, Michael had never seen Luke before in his life, but they still had some sort of emotional connection that nobody could explain. Michael knew it was possible that Luke was some sort of psycho killer who broke into his house to murder him, but in that moment he really couldn't care less.

"I thought I didn't need fixing, but maybe I do."

Luke averted his eyes from tidying away the first aid equipment and set his gaze upon Michael. He couldn't believe that such an adorable person could think so little of themselves.

"You're not broken, Mikey." Luke said, moving to stand directly in from of Michael.

It was difficult for Michael not to blush at the nickname, especially since it wasn't something that a friend - could he even call Luke a friend? - had said to him before. "But I'm not okay either."

"Is anyone okay?" Luke didn't mean to come off so pessimistic, but it really was a question that he wanted Michael to think about.

"All of those people who picked on you, they're never going to have a real happy life if they grow up thinking bullying is fine." As he said the words, for a second Luke actually felt bad for the bullies. "One day they'll have children and when their son comes home from school crying because some kid shoved him into a locker, they're going to realise how fucking pathetic they were and that will break them."

Michael lowered his head. "I just want it to stop." He sighed and clutched his eyes shut as if that would block out all of the pain.

"Mikey, I know it's hard, but you're not broken." Luke put a finger under Michael's chin and lifted his head up so that Michael's green eyes met Luke's blue-grey eyes. Although the colour faded a lot after his death, Luke's eyes managed to remain bright as he stayed a pure soul. "You might feel like everything gets too much sometimes and you want it to go away, but that's normal. There's nothing wrong with being upset."

"Life fucks you up in every way imaginable but you just have to get through it and realise that it's okay to wish you could stop feeling bad and it's okay to wish you could stop feeling anything at all because we're all broken, this is all just a test to see who can put themselves back together."

For the millionth time that says, both boys were speechless. Michael had nothing to saw as a follow up an Luke was slightly glad, not knowing if he had enough inspiration words to continue the conversation.

The one thing that Michael did next surprised Luke, however. He reached his arms out and grabbed Luke's waist with frail hands, tugging him closer so Michael could bury his face in the taller boy's neck. They remained in that position even as Michael began to speak again.

"Luke?"

"Yeah?" Luke's voice was strong but came out muffled as his face was buried in a pile of coloured hair.

"Why were you so upset that I hurt myself?" Michael questioned, feeling hesitant to ask. "Did you ever..."

"No, never. I couldn't do that to myself." Luke hastily replied. He wasn't lying, he really never tried to hurt himself even when people were mean to him.

He had too much first-hand experience of the destruction that could cause to hurt his family and friends like that.

"So how do you know how to fix it?"

Luke knew that Michael was referring to how he treated the wounds and he almost grinned at how sweet and innocent the boy sounded. The reply he had to give wiped the smile from his face. "I used to know someone who did."

"Oh," Michael said. "But you helped him, right?" Michael was so hopeful and cute that he prayed for the stranger's safety, not wanting anyone to have been hurting themselves in the same way that he had been doing.

"Sort of." Luke's voice broke and he prayed that Michael didn't notice.

Fortunately that was the end of the conversation and the topic was dropped. Instead of continuing to discuss such depressing things, Luke cuddled Michael into his side and pulled him into his feet.

"Come on, we can go and watch a movie or something."

And that's what they did, because even though it was nearing 2am and Michael was aware that he was supposed to be going to school in less than 6 hours, he would much rather watch a stupid comedy with Luke and stare at him for the rest of the night than fall asleep and risk not waking up beside him.


	6. The Person Inside Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please remember that this story isn't going to be long, there will only be three chapters left as it all takes place in one night! This is the first book of a trilogy though so if you're enjoying it so far, don't worry :)

"It's weird, you know." Luke said with a quiet voice. He was sprawled out across Michael's bed with the smaller boy lay next to him, cuddled into his chest. "I've not touched someone _alive_ in so long, I forgot what it felt like."

"Is it different? Touching a human, I mean." Michael replied, lifting his head up.

"It's warm. Feels nice."

There wasn't much conversation for a while after that. From the other side of the room, Michael's old record player was softly playing _Don't You (Forget About Me)_ by Simple Minds, filling the room with a quiet but delightful layer of noise. In the moment, the boys couldn't have been physically and mentally closer.

"It's 3am." Michael murmured, his face still snuggled into Luke's chest.

Luke chucked lightly and shook his head at the irony. Of course it was 3am when they checked the time, they obviously had to choose to get to know each other at the hour of the devil.

"It's funny," spoke Luke, causing Michael to glance up at the boy with a puzzled look on his face. He wasn't quite sure why the hour of Satan himself could make their situation funny. Luke noticed the look in his eyes and smiled down, licking his lips before explaining.

"3AM is when I'm supposed to be at my strongest, but I do to think I've ever been more vulnerable than I am now, with you."

A smile tugged at the corners of Michael's mouth and it only faded when he felt Luke's cold fingers running along his wrist, caressing the slight bumps where his scars were permanently carved.

It wasn't that Michael felt uncomfortable around Luke - quite the opposite really, considering how close they had become in a matter of hours. This was their first real, meaningful conversation but something about the blonde made him seem trustworthy, kind and gentle.

It wasn't a surprise that the scars were present. There had been many times that Luke had actually seen the blood fresh on his wrists, tears falling down Michael's cheeks as he screamed into the empty house. Luke had been haunting the Clifford house for months, so he was there to witness at least ten of Michael's breakdowns.

Unfortunately, he never managed to stop it in time before Michael started to hurt himself or break things. It took throwing furniture and slamming doors to distract Michael, even for a few seconds.

Still, Luke was curious. Throughout all of the pain in his life, he never let it turn into something physical. Luke was always a strong believer that your emotional pain should _stay_ emotional, because taking it out on your body won't do you any good. He couldn't come to terms with the fact that Michael was so desperate for relief that he actually tore apart his own skin.

"Did you really want to die?"

Michael was startled by the question at first, but eventually he let out a shaky breath and nodded. For whatever reason, his brain told him that Luke was a person that he could confide in and after a lifetime of hiding his emotions, it was a relief for Michael to be able to tell the truth.

"I just don't understand it," Luke let out a short breath in frustration. He tightened one arm around Michael and used the other to run a hand through his hair, lightly tugging at the ends. "I know what it's like to be bullied, trust me, but death isn't all fun and games. It's scary and boring and just as bad as living a shitty life."

"You were bullied?"

"You sound surprised,"

"Well it's just that you're so..." Michael struggled to find the words to describe it. _Cuddly_? _Charming_? _Perfect_? Nothing seemed to fit right,

"So..." Luke trailed off and pushed for an answer.

"You're so _Luke_. You're tall, blonde and cute, you have nice hair, you're really funny - _plus_ you can sing!" Michael rambled on, listing the main points from the list in his head about all of the reasons why Luke should be more appreciated in the world. "What's not to like?"

At first Michael could have sworn he saw Luke frowning, but it was quickly covered up by an uneasy laugh, as if he was trying to hide something. "If only everyone else thought the same way as you."

"I'm being serious, it can't have been that bad. Look at you!" Michael laughed and gestured to Luke's face, confined that nobody could hate someone so beautiful. He didn't say the last part out loud though - that would be weird.

"They're the reason I'm dead so it _was_ pretty bad, actually."

The blue haired boy froze on the spot. He had just undermined Luke's pain and struggles, acting as if his life couldn't have been bad, yet apparently he was killed by bullies? "W-What?" Michael prayed he had misunderstood Luke's words.

"The guys who bullied me, they didn't just make fun of me a few times. They beat me up, burned my skin, that kind of stuff." Luke took a deep breath, not wanting to get upset in front of Michael. Things were so much worse for other kids, so Luke felt as if he didn't have the right to cry over his minor struggles. "One day something snapped, I guess."

"They killed you?"

Luke shrugged his shouldered and bit down on one of his fingernails. His death wasn't a topic that he enjoyed talking about but it would be unfair to keep Michael in the dark, especially if he wanted the younger boy to open up more.

"Strangled me in the janitors closet, one of them had a knife. Left my body on the floor and went home like nothing happened."

Luke couldn't even mention the names of the boys who killed him, they stirred so much anger and regret in his mind. He would never understand why they chose to target him or how they managed to get away with the murder, but he would probably never get over it.

"So if you get murdered, do you like... Become a ghost? That's how it happens?" Michael was stricken with horror while he talked, the idea of someone actually being killed by their school bullies haunting his mind. Although Michael despised the kids who picked on him, surely they would never go that far... Right?

"No, no! Only if it's violent, of you struggle." Luke raised his voice and quickly tried to calm Michael down, explaining it. "Did you ever learn about energy efficiency and stuff in Physics class?" He pondered.

Michael scratched the back of his head - Physics was never his best subject however he did recall doing experiments about lightbulbs and their efficiency. "Um, yeah, I think so."

"Well for every form of energy, no matter how it is used or what it's converted into, there's always one rule which applies." Luke explained further and hoped that Michael would be able to understand.

"Energy can not be created or destroyed?" Michael remembered that being written on the board during most lessons.

"Exactly."

"I don't get it."

"Think about it this way; over your entire life, you've had these random bursts of energy, right? Like winning a race or getting an award or watching a really scary movie." Luke spoke with confidence, flailing his arms for extra effect.

"You mean adrenaline?"

"Yeah! When you die in a violent way, your body is filled with all of this adrenaline pumping through your blood and every slither of energy in your body is rushing around, so when you die it has nowhere to go..."

"...And it makes a ghost," Michael finishes, understanding the situation slightly more. However, he still wasn't sure how that led to Luke haunting his house for months and and then cuddling him in bed. "So what, now you just have to float around all the time?"

"I can still talk to people and function as usual, I'm just... well, dead." Luke pointed out. "I can leave the place I died, talk to the living and look like a real person. There's no rules that I have to stay hidden, I'm just not supposed to start a relationship or have sex with a human, because it's dangerous."

"Can't you still go to school, though?" Michael shifted slightly, turning to stare at Luke in the eyes. This was partly because Michael didn't want to seem rude by talking to him without looking, but he also just _really_ loved Luke's eyes. "I mean, if you just moved to a different city or applied somewhere else I'm sure nobody would recognise you."

"I wish." Luke scoffed, hoping he didn't sound rude.

Michael wasn't sure what to think. Luke didn't look dead and he could certainly pass for a living boy, why couldn't he learn with everyone else? "You're not allowed to stay in school if you're a ghost?"

"No working, going to school or being a part of human society," Luke recited the words he was told the day he first appeared in the ghost realm. "Being dead can be awesome, but we're cut off from the living world."

Michael was slightly confused, "Doesn't it get lonely?" He asked.

"You learn to deal with it, I guess."

"But _how_?"

Luke simply shrugged and leaned back against the headboard, watching in amusement as Michael's face shows a whole range of emotions. Michael was trying to figure out how Luke was so casual about the situation, why he didn't mind being alone forever.

"I don't have the most friends in the world, but I can't imagine what it would be like to be alone all the time, to have nobody there for me. I'd go crazy."

"I'm not alone." Luke whispered, a smile on his lips. "I might only be here for one night, but I'm not lonely right now. I have you."


	7. Bigger Than These Bones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone who has been leaving kudos and comments, i love you :)

****The boys were sat opposite each other on the bed, legs crossed with a sharing bag of Malteasers and a litre bottle of Coca-Cola Cherry between them. The digital clock on Michael's bedside table read 4:07AM and despite it being so late, neither of them felt tired. Luke was dead so it wasn't surprising that he didn't feel the need to rest, but Michael had gotten so used to staying up all night watching Friends re-runs or spamming Oli Sykes to follow him on tumblr that he almost didn't need to sleep anyway.

The only light in the room came from the moon which poured in through the open curtains. The streets were silent aside from the occasional cough or stumble of a drunk man on his way home, or to the next bar just around the corner. Every house nearby had the doors locked, windows closed and lights off, residents fast asleep like any other normal person would be at this time.

Michael never wanted to be normal, anyway.

"Okay, we have to do the cliché best-friend tradition of playing 20 questions. It's a must."

Michael looked up from where his eyes were fixed on the floor and grabbed a Malteaser from the bag, shoving it into his mouth. "Best friend?" He mumbled around the chocolate.

"Best friend," Luke nodded. "But don't talk with your mouth full, it's gross." He added, but gave Michael a smile to show he was messing around. Michael just chuckled and shook his head, grabbing more of the treats so he could make his way through the bag before Luke ate them all. Despite being dead, Luke still ate from time to time and Malteasers were always his favourite.

"I'll go first." Luke sighed, but had to hold back his laughter when Michael tried to reply with all of the food in his mouth. "Siblings?"

Michael shook his head. "None. Birthday?"

"July 16th, yours?"

"November 20th. Do you play video games?"

Luke nodded and paused for a moment, trying to think of a good question. "Do you like comic books, superheroes, that kind of thing?"

"Duh! Spider-Man is my favourite, what's yours?"

"Batman obviously! He's way better, he could take on Spider-Man any day!" Luke smirked as Michael screwed up his face in disgust. As awesome as Batman was, nobody could beat Spider-Man. "Favourite candy?"

Michael picked up the empty Malteasers bag and threw it at Luke's face, giggling like a small child when it hit him. "These, of course, and your answer better be the same or this friendship can never work out!"

"Yep, same here. I know you don't now, but have you ever had a pet?"

"Never. Did you have any pets before, you know..." Michael trailed off.

"Before I died?" Luke found it cute how he was scared to say the words in case it was too upsetting. "I had a dog called Molly, you would've liked her. Cats or dogs?"

"Definitely cats! Have you seen them? They're adorable?"

"Kind of like you," Luke mumbled, but it wasn't quiet enough to stop Michael from hearing. He wasn't sure why the words slipped out, but they weren't a lie so Luke didn't bother trying to take it back.

"Yeah, uh, anyway," Michael blushed and tried to stop himself from stuttering. Why did Luke have such a big effect on him? "What's your favourite movie?"

Luke had to think for a minute, not wanting to rush in and give a stupid answer. "The Perks of Being a Wallflower, probably." He mused.

"Any reason?" Michael questioned.

"I don't know; I just remember watching it in the cinema and trying my best not to cry, it really got to me. Plus it has Ezra Miller, which is always a bonus." Luke added. "Favourite book and why?"

"The Outsiders." Michael spoke quickly, as if he had the answer permanently written in his mind. "It was written by a teenager so it's the only book that actually gets what it's like, you know? The characters are rebels, criminals, outcasts, but they all have their struggles and deep down they're not so different. It's real, and I love it."

"Read it to me?" Luke asked before Michael could think of another question. He wasn't sure what reaction he would get, but Michael blushed at the request and nodded his head, effectively ending their game. He climbed up from the bed to retrieve the old book from its position on the shelf. It was easy to see that the cover was worn down and bent in every direction which made Luke smile - Michael really loved this book.

It took a minute for them to settle down and finally they were ready, both cuddled into each other on the bed, Luke's head on Michael's chest. Instead if starting from the beginning, Luke pointed to where the bookmark was placed and asked to read it from there. He didn't care if it meant he wouldn't understand properly, Luke just wanted to make sure Michael didn't grow bored with going over something he had only just read.

"They grew up on the outside of society." Michael began, "They weren't looking for a fight, they were looking to belong."

"Things were rough all over, but it was better that way." He cleared his throat and shifted slightly to make himself more comfortable. "That way you could tell the other guy was human too."

Michael's voice was strong as he spoke. He put his all into the story and connected with the characters right away, knowing most of the lines off by heart already. It had been only two years since he discovered The Outsiders but it quickly became one of the most important parts of his life. He lived by the book and was proud of that. They didn't stop reading after one or two chapters as Michael thought they would. Luke seemed genuinely interested and the pair continued turning pages and falling for the characters with every passing minute.

"When you're a kid, everything's new, dawn." Michael tried to hold back a grin as he read out loud - this was his favourite scene. "It's just when you get used to everything that it's day. Like the way you dig sunsets, Ponyboy. That's gold. Keep it that way, it's a good way to be."

"Stay gold, Ponyboy." Luke whispered, the words rolling off his tongue as if he had been waiting his entire life to speak them. Michael stopped reading for a second, peered down at his friend, and nodded.

"Stay gold," he whispered back, and returned to reading the story.

Luke had never understood the words, only hearing it in passing when he used to spend his days going to school and scrolling through tumblr everyday, reblogging quotes and gifs as if he didn't have piles of homework to complete. But now, after hearing about the Socs and the Greasers and trying to understand Michael's connection with characters like Sodapop and Two-Bit, Luke felt as if his stars had aligned.

He wanted to run back to his school and tell his bullies to "stay gold," and not let themselves be broken. He wanted to wipe the tears of everyone contemplating ending their lives and tell them it's not the way to go, that they'll make it because under the darkness, they're golden in every single way. 

But he didn't do any of that.

No, Luke stayed on the bed with his body pressed against Michael's, trying to pay attention to the words on the page.

The whole situation was almost laughable, because Michael was so enticed by the struggles of his favourite characters that he hardly noticed Luke's internal struggle happening a few inches away. He trapped himself in the fictional world to escape everyone who ignored him and ended up ignoring the only one who wanted to listen. It wasn't a problem, though. Michael was so into the book and Luke was so into Michael that they didn't give it a second thought as more and more pages were turned, new thoughts and phrases pouring out of Michael's mouth with every chapter.

"It seemed funny to me that the sunset she saw from her patio and the one I saw from the back steps was the same one. Maybe the two different worlds we lived in weren't so different. We saw the same sunset."

It wasn't long until Luke stopped paying attention to the words on the page and became infatuated with the way Michael's lips moved as he read, and perhaps he wasn't half as interested in the story as the smaller boy beneath him anyway. However, as Luke ran his fingertips through Michael's light hair and listened to his soft breaths as he became more and more tired, Luke couldn't help but wish that after the night was over, their worlds would collide again and they'd be able to watch the sunset together.


	8. Villains That Live in My Head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the final chapter of control, the next part will be the epilogue, I just really wanted to post this chapter asap so that's why there's a double update. Thank you to everyone who had been reading this, I'm glad so many people have enjoyed it!

It was a little over two hours later and Michael was barely staying awake. He had managed to have a short nap after he finished reading The Outsiders book to Luke, but he was well aware that Luke wouldn't be sleeping and he was too scared to fall into a deep sleep in case he woke up alone.

"Luke," Michael said with a soft voice. Luke hummed in reply. "Promise me you'll stay forever?"

Luke frowned, already knowing where this conversation would lead. "You know I can't do that."

"Why?" Michael pondered.

"You knew this wouldn't last more than one night, think about it. I'm dead, and you're..."

"I'm what?" Michael was almost offended, not understand what Luke was trying to say.

"You're _Mikey_. You're so _you_ and I care about you too much to let you get hurt."

"I-I don't understand," Michael spoke with a low voice. He was confused, why couldn't Luke be his friend any more?

"Mikey, I swear I didn't want this to happen." Luke stared down at his hands. "You know I wish I could stay!"

"Then why won't you?" Michael begged, almost pleading.

Luke sighed and rubbed both of his palms across his face in frustration. "I'm sorry, okay? You know I am," he said.

Michael's voice cracked as he spoke, his voice getting louder each second. "No you're not! Stop saying you're sorry because you're not, nobody is. You're lying."

"Baby," Luke whispered.

"Don't call me that." Michael snapped. He was sick of being treated like an idiot; like he was the weak, needy one.

Luke was quiet. He didn't think up any excuses or try to make things better because at the end of the day, Michael was right. Luke had spent the night almost forcing them to become friends, only to say he won't be returning ever again. Luke felt like an asshole, but it was too late to go back and change things.

"Everyone swears they're different, they say that nothing will drive them away but it's always the same thing. You're just like everyone else, Luke." Michael yelled and hurried to wipe the tears falling down is cheeks. "I'm not letting myself get hurt again."

It was obvious that Michael was done with their conversation. Luke watched with desperation in his eyes as Michael marched around the bedroom, picking out his favourite outfit for school and lining up the few items of makeup that he wore everyday.

It was nearing 7am by now and Michael would either be leaving for school or greeting his parents again in a few minutes, so with the precious time he had left to spare, he did the first thing that came to mind - He kissed Michael.

It was soft, slow and didn't last long, but it was a kiss. Michael was shocked at first, not sure if he should pull away but after a few seconds he gave in and let his lips move in time with Luke's. Michael had to stand on his tip toes to reach properly, but that was just another thing that Luke found adorable.

Luke pulled away, resting his forehead on Michael's. "Hear me out. You're the most beautiful, kind hearted, hilarious person I've ever met, and for once you actually helped me to forget that I'm dead. You make me feel _alive_ , Mikey, and that's a big deal for people like me." Luke smiled and pulled the smaller boy in for a hug, wrapping his long arms around his waist. "I promise that I'll come back if I ever get the chance, but we're not allowed to be together; it's dangerous, and I can't risk you getting hurt or killed just for me."

"But maybe I could be a ghost like you," Michael mumbled into Luke's shoulder as they hugged. "We could be together forever."

Luke smiled and shook his head, chuckling at the suggestion. "As great as forever sounds, I'm not gonna let you throw your life away. You're my human."

Michael's heart broke as he listened to the words. Over the space of a few hours he had fallen so hard for the blonde boy that in his blind, lovestruck haze, even death wasn't enough to scare him away.

Luke didn't want him to die though, so Michael knew what the right thing to do was.

Sparing a glance at the clock, Michael's heart sank even further into his chest when he saw that it was time to finish getting ready and leave. His bag was always packed the day before and he bought his lunch at school so there was no general meandering around the house for him to do in order to spare them some time. Michael had to go to school and Luke wouldn't be there when he got home.

He tried to ignore all of his emotions as he thumped down the stairs and picked up his bag from next to the door. Even wearing his favourite outfit (ripped black skinny jeans, black high-top converse, a muscle tank and a snapback), Michael didn't feel comfortable going to school. He didn't want to be alone again.

"Michael?" Luke called out from the top of the stairs. Michael turned around and the boys locked eyes. "I'm a ghost, so I can't feel actual emotions like you do. I don't know what it's like to be truly scared, excited or in love. But when I look at you, it's the closest thing to love that I know."

Michael knew his voice would fail him if he tried to respond, so he simply nodded back at Luke. Exactly like it was after Michael's parents left, the house was silent, only shallow breaths and heavy hearts providing background noise.

"Stay alive, Mikey." Luke's voice wavered as he spoke, eyes fixed on Michael's body. "For me."

Michael plugged his headphones into his phone and rested his free hand on the door handle, mentally knowing that he wasn't ready to leave yet. "For Luke," he whispered and opened the door, walked outside and pulled it shut behind him. There was a knock on the window and Michael looked up, seeing Luke back in his bedroom, waving him off. Michael waved back and turned around to start walking to school.

There was nobody else out on the streets at that time and despite what his mother said, Michael's parents still weren't back. The thought would usually be scary, but with his ghost boy to protect him, Michael knew he would be safe.

He jogged across the street and slipped the earphones into his ears, deciding not to play his music yet until he said his last goodbye. It was hard for Michael to contain his tears, but he knew that he needed to at least give Luke one last wave or message before they left.

_When Michael turned around and looked back up at his window, Luke was gone._

No, the sinking feeling didn't disappear from his chest right away and yes, a tiny part of Michael still hated Luke for not staying with him forever. However, as he tried to shield his arms from a sudden gust of wind and his phone unexpectedly blared the same MAyday Parade song that Luke had sang only a few hours ago, Michael knew that he wouldn't be so alone after all.


	9. Who is in Control?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this story, please comment and let me know your opinions and if you're going to read the rest of the series!

"I bet you think I'm crazy, right?" Michael tugged on the ends of his skirt, averting his eyes to make himself feel less embarrassed.

"You're not crazy, Michael." Calum smiled from the other side of the bed. His face was calm and voice steady, as if Michael's confession didn't surprise him at all. "I actually believe you."

The boys were sat cross legged on Michael's bed, facing each other much like Michael and Luke were doing a few nights earlier. Of course, this time it was late afternoon and neither of them were dead.

Michael furrowed his brows and tilted his head slightly to the left. "You do?" He didn't expect Calum to understand.

"It'd make me a bit of a hypocrite if I didn't."

Michael opened his mouth to reply but closed it, not knowing what to say. Had Calum met Luke before? Did he know about ghosts already? _Had Calum been hiding something from him?_

"You know Ashton?" Calum looked up from his hands with a sheepish smile as Michael's eyes widened. "Yeah."

"Wait, but didn't you guys..." Michael trailed off, feeling awkward.

"Uh, we did. It was pretty great actually." He smirked. Michael laughed and shook his head, barely even surprised.

It's Calum, he thinks with his dick. Of course they slept together.

"So it's not weird that I liked Luke so much, even if he's dead?"

"I don't think there's anything wrong with it." Calum placed a supportive hand on his friend's shoulder and smiled to reassure him. He hated seeing his friend upset, and Luke obviously meant a lot to Michael. "Maybe he'll come back if he knows you need him! You could always tr-"

The door opened quickly and Karen walked in, eyeing the pair suspiciously. She rested a hand on her hip and leaned against the door frame, not peeling her eyes away.

"I think you should go, Calum." She spoke calmly but sincerely, however Michael could hear the slither of venom in her voice. She heart them talking and was angry, and he was afraid to find out what the consequence would be.

*

"You're sure this will make him stop seeing the... things?"

"Definitely. Our technology is state of the art and we've used this treatment to cure all different types of Schizophrenia."

"I just want my son to get better," she sighed, running a hand through her hair to try and calm herself down.

"We know, Mrs Clifford." The doctor placed a comforting hand on her arm and spoke with as much sincerity as he could. "You won't be able to see him straight after the treatment as it's very tiring on the patient, but I promise you that Michael is in good hands."

Karen nodded and pulled her bag onto her shoulder, giving one last look to the hospital bed before leaving. Michael was still asleep, dreaming about Luke and that night in the house just like he'd been doing every night since it happened.

Three months had passed and with every day that went by, it got harder for the Clifford family to deal with Michael's stories. His parents tried to be supportive about his sexuality and the way he lived his life, but they wouldn't tolerate him speaking about ghost boys and demons any longer. Michael needed help, so they took him to the only place they knew of who might fix him.

"He's a liar," they'd assure the worried parents with sympathetic eyes. "All of them are. They keep secrets and speak half truths but don't worry, we can fix it."

Nobody in the Clifford family were sure about sending Michael away for treatment at first, but once they heard all of the success stories that the hospital had, they figured it was their best chance to get him back to normal.

*

"Now Michael, you're aware of how the treatment works, yes?"

Michael stared up at the man with a blank face, still feeling tired for the anaesthetics he had been given earlier that day. He couldn't remember exactly what happened, but once he was asked to lay on the bed and let the doctors strap down his arms, legs and head, Michael began to freak out. This led to him being given an injection, making him slowly drift off so the group of doctors could prepare him for the treatment.

"Alright then," the man in white sighed. "After this, you shouldn't see things any more, but depending on your progress you'll probably be given medication to ensure it keeps working."

He left the room after that, not bothering to look back and say 'good luck' or 'I hope it works' to calm down the teenager. Michael tried to stay calm, refusing to let the hospital get the better of him. _I've been pretending to be okay for years,_ he told himself. _I can do it for a few more minutes._

Some sort of switch or button must have been pressed in the control room, because suddenly the machines in the room whirred to life. _It's just electricity, they're not trying to hurt you. They're going to make you better._

Michael tried to repeat the words in his head over and over like a mantra, as if thinking it enough would make it true.

They're going to make you better.

They're going to make you better.

They're going to make you better.

"This might hurt a bit," a voice called out over the speakers so Michael clenched his eyes shut.

He kept his face calm and body still, but for the first time since Luke had promised to protect him, Michael was scared. He was scared to death because his legs were strapped down and his arms were tied back and he wasn't in control any more. He was scared because Calum had been talking about a strange boy called Ashton appearing in his room sometimes and people might not believe Calum either. He was scared because his parents always trusted Michael, but they still shipped him off to a hospital as if there was something wrong with telling them the truth.

Most of all, Michael was scared because the doctors were right - he _was_ crazy - and that meant they could take Luke away from him forever.

Even after the power was turned on and Michael was almost passed out at the pain being drilled into his body, he knew that his parents were wrong and he wasn't a liar. They sent him away, but Michael knew the house was still awake. Shadows and monsters were hidden around every corner and he could hear how the hallways echoed and groaned as he tried to sleep.

After sleepless days and nights crying, screaming, begging for his life, he gave up trying to hold his secrets inside and just accepted that his mind was a deadly disease. Michael couldn't help the awful energy surrounding his house and deep down he knew he should probably be scared. He grew familiar with the villains living in his head, but Michael was bigger than his body and meaner than his demons could ever be; no amount of doctors or pills could take that away from him.

_**It seemed that he was always in control after all.** _


End file.
